Gripe, Gripe, Gripe
Gripe, Gripe, Gripe
By: Miracle Man
October 2, 2020
Autumn day, cooling breeze,
rag weed induces me to sneeze.
Pollen causes my nose to run,
a killing frost and then it’s done.
Covid-19 is keeping me at home,
each day comes in monochrome.
I feel that I’m under house arrest,
each day feeling more distressed.
I wonder if good days will return,
when history I won’t be forced to unlearn.
When riots and protests aren’t the norm,
and news is no longer a political platform.
I’m stuck inside as years grow ripe,
little to do but sneeze and gripe.
Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2020
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